


In My Area

by havisham



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Non-Canonical Character Death, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23553754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: Jon's not Jon. Martin notices, but it's all more complicated than that.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	In My Area

Something was wrong with Jon. 

He came in one day and he greeted Martin by name and with a smile. Tim had said that not getting the Head Archivist job must’ve knocked the stick out of his ass, but Martin knew it was something different. 

He thought that Jon had been relieved, actually, about not getting it. Sasha was undoubtedly more qualified than -- well, any of them. Jon had continued on as normal afterwards. Ignoring Martin or speaking to him in short, clipped sentences. The bags under his eyes kept getting darker. He was just sinking into something that Martin didn’t know how to rescue him from. Not that Jon would accept his help, Jon didn’t want anyone’s help -- 

But this new Jon came in on Monday. He looked like Jon. He had Jon’s credentials and everyone greeted him as Jon. Whatever scarce social media presence Jon had -- mostly tagged in the background of other people’s posts -- showed the same person. Jon. 

But -- this sounded crazy -- it was _not_ Jon. 

Martin couldn’t explain it to anyone. He ventured the thought to Tim, who shot him down with a bewildered snort. “All these spooky stories are getting to you, Martin,” he said lightly. But Martin noticed Tim watching Jon after that. They both did. And Jon noticed them noticing him. 

They were running around in circles like that. 

Then Jon asked Martin out on a date. It was -- completely unexpected. Martin would have spat out the tea he was sipping, splattering it over Jon’s shoes. But he caught himself in time. “Pardon?” his voice went higher than it usually did. “Out to where?” 

“A date, Martin,” Jon said with a slight smile. “Unless I’m wrong and you don’t like me anymore?” 

“No,” Martin said, “well, yes. You’re right. I’m not. Yeah. I mean, what?” 

“Are you and Tim … together?” Jon seemed tentative for the first time. Tragically, this made him look even more handsome than usual. There was some mysterious source of pain in his pale blue eyes. His sandy blond hair, usually tousled in a _I haven’t slept in ages_ way, was more artfully arranged. He looked wonderful. He sounded wonderful. He was saying something wonderful as well. 

Martin couldn’t understand it. His head swam. It felt like he had entirely too much blood and it was all rising to his temples. 

“Martin?” Jon said, reaching for him, trying to steady him. Martin scrambled away, slamming his mug on the desk. He babbled something about checking something in Artifact Storage and made a dead run towards the door. 

Of course, he wasn’t looking where he was going and thus ran into the only other person he wanted to see less than Jon. 

“Martin,” Elias said reproachfully. “I didn’t think I had to tell you that the halls of this Institute are not meant for running.” 

“S-sorry, sir,” Martin said, “I’m in a hurry. Won’t do it again.” 

“Have you seen Jon anywhere?” Elias asked, looking around. “I have some papers I need him to sign.” 

“... Check his cubicle?” 

“Thank you, Martin,” Elias said, in the same tone of voice as one would say _piss off, Martin_. 

So Martin did. 

*

Jon asked again and Martin said no. Then the Institute was attacked by worms and many other traumatic things happened. Jon proved himself to be not entirely useless in tight situations. They may have kissed at some point when Martin was almost certain they would die. 

And afterwards, they went out for dinner. Martin tried to push down that nagging feeling that something had gone wrong somewhere. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? 

Jon was so much more fun -- and funny -- and open than Martin had thought. He made it very clear how much he adored Martin and that was -- wasn’t that good? He genuinely enjoyed reading Martin’s poetry, and all his critiques were well-reasoned and gently delivered. He also fucked amazingly well. Suspiciously well.

Wasn’t that great? Wasn’t he a dream? When Jon kissed him, shouldn’t Martin have felt wonderful? 

The thing was that -- he did. He loved Jon. 

He wanted to be with him, even when it felt wrong.  
Even if he was the wrong Jon -- he was _a_ Jon. 

*

When Sasha came in, smelling of burning plastic and covered in blood (that looked like candle wax), Martin knew what she was going to tell him. 

“No,” he said. 

“I’m sorry, Martin,” she said, “but he …” 

“No, Sasha. I have to be the one to do it.” As soon as he said it, he knew it was true. Sasha looked sorry for him and that was all right. It didn’t help to think that Jon (his Jon who had never been _his_ Jon) was already long dead. It only hurt instead. 

*

When Jon who was not Jon realized that he was trapped, he only bowed his head, knowing that he had been beaten. “We had a good run, Martin, my boy,” he said, sounding nothing like Jon at all. “Maybe in a different world, you’d get that pathetic excuse for a --” 

Martin closed his eyes for a moment and let the table do its work.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgIivSCfLWE).


End file.
